


our little devils run riot instead

by theprincessed



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Overstimulation, Public Hand Jobs, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:33:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprincessed/pseuds/theprincessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Harry teaches Nick the offside rule. Louis is days away from playing in his own charity football match. Nick decides to surprise him...but not with what he's learnt about football.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	our little devils run riot instead

Louis wakes to the sound of voices.

It’s enough to make him suck in a breath and his eyes widen as if he’s awoken from a nightmare because he lives alone now and nobody stayed with him last night. At least he’s fairly certain of that. He sits up cautiously and puts a hand to his temple. Nope. No hangover.

Suddenly, the urgency to see _who the hell is in his bloody house_ \- he checks the clock – at ten minutes past seven in the morning increases, so he untangles his feet from the sheets and scrambles out of bed. He’s about to yank the door open when the delayed thought that it might be big scary burglars flashes across his mind and makes him pause. His eyes scan his bedroom. It’s still decorated as when he recently moved in, so it’s big and full of neutral tones and doesn’t feel quite like home yet. His belongings strewn haphazardly all over the place have made a good start though and his eyebrows raise in an idea as his gaze falls on a pile of sports equipment in one corner. It’s his Three Horseshoes jersey in a slightly rumpled pile, a slowly deflating football, one lone shin pad and he looks at the items with a small sigh. He guesses he’s going to have to do better when it comes to packing soon. However, quite inexplicably propped up next to them lies a tennis racket. Louis grabs it in one hand and slowly eases his bedroom door open with the other.

As he shuffles down the hallway in bare feet, his favoured lounge/pyjama bottoms for airport travelling and a baggy t-shirt he realises is probably Harry’s, Louis can still hear the voices. He thought they might get louder as he got closer, but when he’s near the kitchen it becomes clear that they’re trying to keep to a whisper. That’s when he hears a sharp giggle. Half of his brain knows what’s happening and who that is, but the other half continues to clutch onto the tennis racket with both hands now and he can’t seem to let go.

So he presents himself slowly to his own kitchen only to find what the rational half of his brain knew when he was edging his way forward. His posture drops and his admittedly relieved but slightly irritated sigh alerts his _guests_ to his apparently late arrival.

“Oh you’re awake!” Harry beams.

He turns to Nick, casually stood next to the sink, but he grins too and adds nothing to Harry’s annoyingly obvious statement. They’re as bad as each other. Louis rolls his eyes and leaves the racket on the floor as Harry jumps from his perch on the countertop, even though they both know that Louis would never scold him for something like that and would be more likely to encourage it. That’s probably why Harry did it. He’d never dream of doing it to his own kitchen.

“I thought you were a bloody burglar,” Louis scowls, punching him hard in the arm. “you can’t just waltz in here any time you like!”

“Waltz, eh?” he laughs and tries to grab his best friend in a ballroom hold, but Louis slaps him away.

“What the hell are you doing here so early anyway?” he asks, going towards the sink for a quick splash of water on his face.

“Harry wanted to come.”

Louis raises his eyebrows at Nick from behind the dishtowel he's dabbing his face with as Harry giggles behind him.

“You are such a liar! ‘Oh, it’s the weekend, let’s go see Louis’ ‘Oh you have a day off, let’s go spend it with the guy you see almost every day’ ‘Oh Louis, you’re so – ”

“Hey! It’s no big deal. I was just wondering that’s all. Have you eaten?”

Harry throws Louis a fond look for his interruption that says _you’re definitely turning into your mother_ or maybe it’s _defending him now, are we?_ but thankfully nods his head.

“It’s just,” Louis adds, feeling a little guilty, “I’ve got things to do, y’know, before Monday,”

“Ah,” Harry looks at Nick from over Louis’ shoulder, “the big match.”

Nick’s brow creases. “The big match?”

“You mean Lou hasn’t mentioned it?” Harry counters, as he puts his arms over Louis’ shoulders and pulls him back towards his chest in an annoying hug-pinned hold-hybrid.

Nick shrugs. “I don’t really know anything about football.”

“We can change that,” he announces and Louis groans for his bed and more sleep. “Come on, sit.”

So, Louis sits across from Nick at his unused dining table as Harry follows them in with a bunch of bottles and shakers in his hands. He puts them and a coin from his pocket down on the table and Louis already knows what’s coming because he saw Harry try it in a café once during X-Factor when he tried to charm the daughter of the café owner. As it turns out she was studying to be an assistant line referee and knew more than he did at the time. Louis, of course, never let him forget it.

He opens his mouth to sleepily protest now as Nick looks confused and wary, but Harry shushes him. “I saw it on _Bend It Like Beckham_ , it’s fine, he’ll get it.”

Louis snorts. “What if he doesn’t want to? After all this time, Haz, I still can’t believe you’re this cheesy.”

“It works! The offside rule works best with _a visual_.”

“Yeah, usually by watching some football and being pointed out what the rule is when it happens,”

“I’ve...seen _Soccer AM_ ,” Nick offers tentatively, glancing between them, before a grin takes over. “I follow them on Twitter.”

“That’s great,” Harry beams, moving salt and ketchup into position, “and now if you’re ever invited on you can impress them with this.”

“Like Harry did with that girl at the café,” Louis giggles, but shakes his head when Nick looks at him curiously. He stands up just as they get started. “Look, I’d love to stay and watch you be confused by this, Nick, but I’m a busy man and I’ve got a real football match to get ready for – ”

Harry waves him away before he’s even done with his parting speech, but Louis doesn’t argue about his dismissal because it’s the truth – it feels like he has so much to do before Monday and he knows he better get cracking (and packing), so he leaves them to it, despite it being _his_ house, and changes for his last gym workout with Georgie.

He grabs his water bottle from the fridge to the sound of cheering and smiles.

\---

In Doncaster that evening and after the last full training session that saw everyone get a bit damp, very muddy and very sweaty, Louis decides that they’ve done all they can to be match-fit and ready to make lots of money for charity.

“I can’t believe you actually got Donny Rovers to say yes,” Stan chuckles with a wet pat to the back as they escape the spitting rain.

“ _We_ did, Mr Chairman,” he smiles and bumps their shoulders together, “I don’t think I could’ve done this without you and I didn’t get Rovers to do anything, that was all them. I would’ve been over the moon with reserves,”

“Yeah,” Stan’s face crinkles mischievously, “but it’s really fucking cool that we’re playing the first team, right?”

Louis nods as they hover in the dry doorway, their teammates chatter and clatter of their boots in the background. “So, so sick, mate. To think I went from behind the till to on the pitch. It’s bloody madness.”

“When are you gonna give me some of that luck, eh?” his best friend quips, “Hey, if I don’t see you tomorrow then I guess I’ll see you on the bus. We _are_ taking a bus?”

“Absolutely,” Louis grins, “if a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well.”

“Oh my god,” he laughs, clutching at his chest, “if 16 year old you could hear you now, you brainy fuck.”

“Piss off home! And don’t be late on Monday or I’ll have ya!” he calls to his friend’s retreating back.

“Yes, boss!” Stan replies, but ruins it slightly with a middle finger salute.

Louis turns away to see a lot of his teammates are choosing to go home too and hopes that he won’t have irate mothers blathering on about mud in their houses when they support their sons come match day. The thought makes him giggle though as he knows his own mother’s feelings on the matter. Despite being the only boy, his sisters have been a bit of a handful in the past and aren’t shy about dirt and mess either, so with that in mind and the knowledge that the girls are already way too excited to have him home for a brief visit, Louis decides to stay at the small out-building and have a gloriously long, hot shower alone. Then maybe a drink at the pub namesake of his team for extra luck because if he can’t get a few little perks from being an owner then nothing’s really worth buying. _His team_ , he thinks with a flutter of excitement and pride as he unlaces his sodden boots.

Unsure of the temperature he can get in these out-buildings, Louis pulls his socks and shin pads off then walks barefoot to the shower to test it. He reaches an arm in to fiddle with the dial, not entirely sure why he’s being so careful not to drip on his kit when it’s already damp and splotched with mud and there’s a small tear in one leg of his training shorts.

“So football is really an excuse to mud-wrestle with your teammates then?” an amused voice sounds near his ear.

“Jesus fucking – oh my _god_!” Louis exclaims with a startled jump and snatches his arm back when the water suddenly gets too hot from a slip of his wrist.

“Sounds pretty kinky to me if I’m honest.” Nick shrugs, smirking, and carries on his own little conversation like Louis hadn’t just screamed bloody murder.

Too irritatingly calm, he reaches a long arm past Louis and puts the shower to the ambient warmth before he takes a half-step back. It takes a second for Louis to realise what Nick’s doing as his eyes sneakily rake over him in his football kit sans footwear until he crosses his arms over his middle and, caught, brown eyes flick upwards.

“What’re you _doing_ here, Nick?”

He rubs a hand through his hair and chokes out a laugh, “I thought I’d come see you.”

“What, like you and Harry did at my house this morning, y’mean?”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” he makes a face, riding Louis’ snark easily, “Harry was doing my head in fretting about you so I _did_ suggest we pop in, but then there was that whole offside thing and...well. If it’s any consolation, I get it now and y’know, your kit’s definitely improved over the years.”

“Eh?”

“We might’ve found a photo album or two...”

“What?” Louis cries then groans, remembering, “I’m going to kill Mum when I get home! I told her to bring those back with her, that it was dangerous leaving them at my place and I was right!”

“Hey, steady on,” Nick chuckles, placing his hands on his shoulders and Louis feels his breath hitch at the heat in his palms. “You were very cute. Still are. _Sometimes_.”

Louis raises his eyebrows so Nick does too, although his is quick and decidedly filthier when combined with him taking his peacoat off. Louis watches on in silent confusion as he hangs it up on the nearest hook then turns back to him. Nick puts his hand in the centre of his chest and gives him a little push, but not really enough to move him anywhere. He steps closer instead and Louis narrows his eyes as he has to tilt his chin to keep their eyes completely level.

Nick draws his finger lightly down the front of Louis’ jersey. “How was training?”

“Fine.” he replies, trying not to shiver at the contact and the whisper in his ear. “We’re ready to give it a go.”

“Yeah?” Nick’s mouth quirks up at the corners, “I was hoping you might say that.”

Before Louis can understand what he means, Nick properly shoves him and he stumbles backwards with only the slightly comforting thought that he can’t go far with the shower wall in the way. He hisses when his covered back slaps wetly against it and feels the spike of satisfaction when a brief look of worry crosses Nick’s face. It wouldn’t be good to injure the main man before his big game in a couple of days’ time.

He follows him in and Louis can’t help his wince as Nick’s clothes instantly become soaked under the spray of the shower, but reasons that at least it’s warm. Watching him push the water off his face and his flattened quiff away from his forehead is quite entertaining too. Not hot, definitely not hot. He doesn’t seem to care that his probable vintage or designer shit has been ruined and Louis stamps on the small kernel of appreciation that blooms. He reaches out at the same time that Nick pins his wrists by his sides and against the tile of the wall.

“I feel like a naughty WAG,” he laughs through the sound of the running water, nosing at the wet strands of Louis’ hair. “Come to wank off her ridiculously successful, ridiculously rich football player boyfriend in the locker room before the match starts,”

Louis fidgets in his hold but is smiling, “Are you calling me ridiculously successful and rich?”

Nick rolls his eyes, even though it’s not too far from the truth already. “It’s a fantasy, god, keep up, Tomlinson.”

“You fantasise about being a girl?”

“Not just that.” he jokes, but the way he squeezes Louis’ wrists is anything but.

He pre-empts more smart remarks and dips down to seal their mouths together. Still struggling with the restriction, Louis bites back quite literally and smirks when Nick reels away from the sting to his lip. He’s prepared for when Nick presses even closer so that their hips are flush through wet fabric and he pulls Louis from the wall slightly to grab his arse just a hint too hard.

“Mind the goods, arsehole,” he snaps, but his hips jerk helplessly.

“I believe you’re the arsehole tonight.”

Louis groans for the terrible banter ( _it’s not his hands it’s not his hands it’s not his hands_ ) “Oh my god, fuck _off_ ,”

“Sorry, too busy wanking.”

That time he can’t disguise his moan for anything other than what it is as he feels Nick’s teeth clamp across the vein in his neck. Trapped, Louis tries to think of something to do or say but can only manage a feeble wriggle and a faint whimper as Nick sucks over his bitten skin to make it bruise. His hand indeed seeks out the shape of Louis over his shorts, which is conveniently obvious as his clothes mould to his body and Nick’s flexing fingers tease him into full hardness.

“The match isn’t until Monday,” he gasps as he bossily grabs Nick’s hand to slide it beneath the waistband of his underwear.

“I’ve got so many plans for you before then,” Nick grins, kissing the tip of his nose.

Louis shakes the gesture off with a scowl and a squeeze to the wrist his fingers are still wrapped around, trying to direct a rhythm that he wants with building need. Unfortunately, Nick’s not one for obedience and he slides his thigh between Louis’ knees until the crushing angle of his hand is too awkward and he has to let Nick completely take over the reins. He’ll admit to himself that he’s not entirely displeased about that after all when, with more room to manoeuvre, Nick strokes him faster and catches on that Louis can’t help make noise when he gently squeezes his cock at the base. He doesn’t mess around and before long Louis’ mouth slackens as he realises that he’s close. Nick’s still licking at the bite imprinted into the side of his neck when he stops moving his hand. Louis sucks in a breath he feels he hasn’t been able to have since Nick started to be so ruthless and strong, only to pant it out once, twice, three times in shock as his shorts and underwear pool at his ankles then get left in a soggy heap. He must look bonkers backed into a corner with half his kit still on whilst a fully clothed man gives him a handjob in the changing room showers, but all he really wants in that moment – besides being thankful that he’s not swallowing a lungful of water – is to come.

“C’mon, faster – fuck, _harder_ ,” he keens, rolling his hips against Nick’s denim-clad thigh.

“Harder will come later, love, don’t you worry,” he quips, but his voice rises a little in pitch the more strained he is to see Louis melt underneath his hands.

With the pretence of sharp wit forgotten, Louis clings and moves with him, falling into step the first time since his arrival and he’s never been so glad of the timing because he can feel it as it begins on the edges of his mind and slides down his body to his dick.

“Yeah, so close – oh god, don’t stop – _please_ ,”

“I’ve got you,” Nick shushes gently, licking a finger. “It’s okay, you can come now.”

Louis thinks he can’t, he's close but it’s just out of reach, then Nick other hand dips low from his raised thigh to his hole. Louis clenches reflexively in surprise, even though it’s just a single pressure point of the tip, not trying to push in without lube. His abs tense and his legs shake as he sees and hears white, a time of nothing suspended in mid-air, until he comes back to himself with a choked sob, finding it hard to breathe and think coherently.

Eventually, the rush of the shower creeps into his head and Louis opens eyes he doesn’t remember closing to get an eyeful of dripping, dark hair and the weight of a body slumped on his half-naked form.

“Oi,” he says and pokes Nick in the side, “haven’t died on me, have you, old man?”

“Bitch.” Nick mumbles, without heat.

He steps back just enough to let Louis onto two feet again but holds him around the waist so he takes advantage a little and tucks his face into Nick’s collarbone. He smells kinda odd if he’s honest – wet and slightly earthy from his ruined, mud-streaked clothes with a whiff of fresh aftershave still clinging to his skin. 

“Are you – are you _sniffing_ me?” Nick asks incredulously when neither of them has said anything else for a while.

“No,” Louis answers immediately, straightening up, “I don’t have to – I can smell you from here.”

‘Here’ is pressed up against the long lines of his body but nobody’s going to mention that, right? Nick is just as good at ignoring details as he is - Louis can feel how he’s extra wet and slightly sticky at the crotch and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how - and he thinks he could kiss him for that when he realises giddily that he can. Holding onto Nick’s elbows, he leans up and gives him a chaste kiss, dropping an extra one to his abused lip. Nick reciprocates, nuzzling his neck.

“You smell like a cow.” he mutters into the space and his shoulders shake with an instant quiet laugh.

Louis shoves him off roughly in retaliation and runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up everywhere in tufts as Nick openly cackles at the look on his face. When he’s suitably calmed down, he sticks his hand beneath Louis’ jersey and rests it against his stomach. It’s such a tight fit with the sports thermal undershirt that Louis quickly feels flushed hot all over and he narrows his eyes at Nick because he’s found out too soon that touch placates him along with a low whisper.

“I think we should have a proper shower,” he says, like Louis will follow as he tugs his soaked t-shirt over his head.

In this case, Louis does.

\---

“This is all your fault y’know,” he tells Nick when they step out clean and naked except for the towels around their waists.

It’s hardly a warm building but it’ll do for now and Louis secretly agreed that they needed a proper shower after their moment of madness. Louis hops onto the bench and walks across it, telling himself that it’s to keep his feet from getting dirty in the watery mud patches dotted on the floor but really it’s to move before Nick reacts. Nick tries to catch him with the flick of a towel swiping his arse but misses and predictably asks how it’s his fault instead.

“You jumped me!” Louis grins, “You could’ve been anyone!”

He’s got a point, but. “Like the burglar _with a key_ this morning?” They both know it’s weak. “Oh, fine. Just don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it when you knew it was me.”

“Okay.” he agrees, choosing to flop down on the bench and lean his back against the wall as his thighs fall open in a sprawl.

The towel covers just below his knees but the material clings and he's completely naked underneath and hazily smiling from an orgasm and hot shower. He watches the bob of Nick’s throat as he swallows and grins wider when he takes the same path as Louis not to get his feet wet. He hasn’t mentioned that he doesn’t seem to have a change of clothes. 

They sit next to each other with their shoulders and hips and knees touching and Louis not sure if it’s the situation that’s doing this, but it’s...nice. Nick’s freshly washed skin is warm on his and surprisingly soft. He’s wiry and long-legged and Louis finds himself subconsciously fiddling with his hair when he watches Nick comb his upwards. It looks a bit wild without product, but its dampness sticks it away from his face as Louis’ falls in his eyes the more it dries.

“You’re staring,” Nick tells him, amused.

Louis blinks quickly out of it and folds his arms across his chest, looking away, “Am not.”

“I don’t mind. I’m staring at you,” he sing-songs.

“Creep.” In the ensuing silence, Louis’ eyes land on their pile of clothes. It’s nothing that a washing machine can’t sort out but it still makes him feel bad. “Sorry about your gear, by the way. It was probably expensive, knowing you and you hipster ways.”

Nick snorts, “It’s alright. It was all my fault, remember?”

A three second recap flashes behind Louis’ eyelids – the surprise, the handjob, the shower – but he keeps his face neutral. “Okay, don’t get too ahead of yourself. You need that head and _that hair_ to fit into Radio 1 come Monday morning.”

“Of course,” Nick nods, “You’re the master of ideas, of the whole universe!”

He throws his hands in the air as Louis mumbles at him to shut up and tries to tickle him with vulnerable, slim spots on show but somehow gets tickled himself until he’s jerkily trying to get away. In the end, Nick relents when Louis’ face is flushed with colour and his chest rises and falls rapidly and he cups his jaw to snog the rest of his breath out of him. Louis’ turning his body inwards and gripping at his shoulder when he remembers to look at the time. He doesn’t really have a curfew anymore, not now he’s moved out of home, but he's in his hometown and he is staying at his mum’s so he reasons he’d better at least call and bends over to search through his kit bag.

“What’re you looking for?” Nick bites his ear gently, an arm stretched across Louis’ collarbone.

“My phone. I need to call my mum, tell her I’ll be a while. I have a key but I don’t want her to worry who it is if she hears me coming in late.”

He feels Nick smooth another palm down his spine, saying something to that but he’s not quite sure what. “Or better yet just tell her you won’t be home tonight. Weren’t you listening earlier? I told you I’ve got plans for you. I’ve got a room booked at a hotel – ”

Louis smacks him in the chest. “I could say No!”

“You could,” Nick nods sagely then starts to talk slower, pitching his voice slightly lower, “but you won’t. I haven’t sucked you off yet or fucked you or got my tongue inside you – ”

“Okay!” he laughs, cutting him off. “You win and it better be a nice room, not somewhere crap.”

“Only the best in the north, sweet cheeks, you know that.”

There are still remnants of a giggle to his voice when Jay answers the phone. He tells her that he’s staying “with a friend” and Nick clearly hears because he waggles his eyebrows. Louis rolls his eyes and turns away just as Jay asks if it’s Stan.

“Um, no, someone else. I _do_ have other friends, Mum.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she laughs, “just be safe. I love you.”

Louis pauses, wary of her choice of words. “You know, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, “I know. But I’m not going to pry, its fine.”

“Thanks.” he smiles, elbowing Nick when he tries to walk a hand up his covered thigh. “Just out of curiosity, who told you? Was it Harry?”

“Harry’s told me nothing...except that he’s a friend of his and he was thinking of coming to see you as a surprise before your big day. Sounds like a romantic young man.”

Louis can’t help snort as he mouths questioningly over his shoulder that _Harry_ knew about all this to Nick who shrugs in reply. “In his own way, I guess. I better go, we’re heading out soon.”

They exchange quick goodbyes and Louis drops his phone back into his kit bag before he turns to Nick. “You told Harry?”

“Well, yeah,” he says, like it’s obvious, “we got talking about the match when you left for the gym and he said I shouldn’t just come up here, wank you off and leave, that I should maybe spend the night.”

“You told my best mate that you planned to wank me off?” Louis blinks then punches a fist into Nick’s shoulder. “My mother thinks you’re a romantic! But it’s _Harry_!”

Nick catches his wrist before he land another blow. “Your mother doesn’t know who I am. Well, she probably does but not as the guy fucking her son and,” he adds, pretending to preen with one hand and holding Louis’ wrist with the other before he can land another punch, “really, Harry wasn’t being romantic. He basically gave me permission to drive up here for a fuckfest. That’s hardly romantic, love.”

Louis stews in his thoughts for a long moment. “Do you...talk about me a lot?”

“Always.” Nick drops a kiss to the top of his head and Louis’ unsure if it’s flippant or not. “Harry, god, Harry, he doesn’t stop. ‘Louis does this’ ‘Louis does that’, you’re not even living together anymore and he’s still besotted! Strictly platonic, of course.”

“Harry said the same thing about you this morning.”

“Alright, I’m man enough to admit that it’s your irresistible charm.” He takes Louis’ face in his hands and kisses him deeply, lingeringly until the tension drains out of his body again. “Either that or your fantastic arse.”

Louis swats him away crossly as he starts to laugh and bends over to unavoidably give him a glimpse to pull his kit bag closer and find a clean set of clothes. He lays them out then belatedly has no idea what Nick’s going to do. He would look rather bizarre if he was reduced to borrowing something of his.

“How are you getting out of here?”

“What d’ya mean?”

“You’re not leaving like that,” Louis gestures to his towel and ignores how his thumb flicks the top edge of it again and again.

“Maybe I will,” he grins, “that’ll give the tabloids something to talk about!”

Louis thinks he’s being insufferable by staring at him until he gets what he means but soon notices the tilt of his head. He follows the line until he sees a black duffle bag propped neatly at the end of the bench. He can’t believe he never noticed before, but he guesses he was a little distracted by someone trying to jump his bones.

“Supplies.” Nick says gleefully.

Louis swallows at the connotations. “Clothes, I hope.”

“Plus a few extras. Now come on,” he says quickly, with a clap of the hands, “get dressed and I’ll drive us to the hotel.”

“Y’know, I always wondered what it’d be like to have a chauffeur.”

He ducks a flying shoe.

\---

As it turns out, the hotel and the room is beyond lovely, especially the bed, big and imposing in the centre with a sturdy frame and soft cotton sheets. At least the frame looks solid enough and Louis’ got an idea that he’ll be able to test it later. He can vouch for the sheets wholeheartedly though, sadly gripped in his clenched fists and smooth underneath his belly from where he lies on his front widthways across the bed, naked as the day he was born and fighting to keep his eyes from closing.

Behind him, Nick plants another kiss on his shoulder to smother a chuckle. He covers Louis’ hands with his own as his knees nudge Louis’ thighs out more.

“I haven’t even done anything yet and you’re tensing up. Relax.”

“Sorry,” he giggles at himself, “I just feel so – I want – ”

“I know,” Nick agrees and scratches blunt fingernails through the soft hairs at the back of Louis’ neck. “All in good time, duck.”

Louis huffs out a breath. “Will you stop calling me that?”

“No,” Nick grins, tucking his face close behind his ear so he can feel his smile. “It’s a pet name so you’re stuck with it.”

Although they never really argue (there’s bickering or snapping and then there’s banter. Neither of them have the patience for anything longer), Louis’ keen to get on with things and wiggles as best as he can to show it. It’s an added bonus that Nick’s crotch is suddenly in the way and they both feel his cock slide between his buttocks before Nick sits up on all fours. Louis tries to rise with him but a palm curled around his neck stops him warningly in his tracks, making him squirm into the sheets. There’s friction there but he wants _more_.

Nick starts at the top and slowly shifts down the curves of Louis’ body with his mouth, trailing kisses from the hard muscle of his biceps, over his shoulder blades and along his ribs. Louis holds his breath for a second as Nick presses his thumbs into the dimples of his lower back and pushes his knees up so he’s more than flatly spread eagled against the mattress, his back arched down and his arse high in the air – _exposed_. He kisses the dips and then round to the parts of his hipbones he can reach before Louis’ foot tries to flail backwards and kick him in the thigh. Nick tuts teasingly but rubs a thumb over his hole to halt any other ideas, blowing coolly on the skin to make Louis clench around nothing. His desperation floats away when finally he feels the first lick of Nick's tongue, slow enough to rip a shiver from him and another when he hums appreciatively and licks a broader stripe. Lick after lick, he’s tensing and releasing, addicted to the press of Nick’s mouth against his hole and how the point of his tongue slips just inside any time he relaxes enough. He hides his noises because the bed is there, but when Nick’s pattern of movement becomes unpredictable then closes his lips around his rim to repeatedly work his jaw and _suck_ , Louis turns his cheek into the bed and raises an arm to tightly grasp a generous handful of Nick’s hair and moans long and loud. Nick answers him with some form of encouragement but his words are lost in the most intimate parts of Louis’ body until he feels the pleasure subside and that he can let go.

“You are so fucking bossy,” he admonishes when he’s allowed to catch his breath.

He comes level with Louis to kiss his cheek but Louis whines when he tries for his lips, no matter how hot he feels and looks – glassy eyes big, pale skin and blushing, spit-shiny mouth. He still wants to come and thrusts his hips, resolving to do it himself if Nick won’t help him. But, with the vantage point, of being hunched over him, Nick notices immediately and holds his hips down so he can’t move either way.

“No, I won’t let you come on the sheets. Not yet anyway. Roll over.”

Louis makes a noise close to a frustrated growl and his face is pinched as Nick kneels beside him so he can get onto his back. Nick settles over him and leans down on his forearms, his fingers sometimes pushing Louis’ hair up in a wilted bedhead then down again to sweep his forehead. They kiss for as long as Nick can make it, but Louis barely stops the disappointed fidgeting.

“Licking you out is my new favourite thing,” he smiles, biting gently at Louis’ chin, “but I want to blow you more right now.”

Another wriggle and then. “Alright.”

Nick rolls his eyes, “Oh it’s such a hardship, getting your dick sucked.”

“Just get on with it;” he pleads roughly and Nick blinks down at him, noting that he’s still breathless and that his voice cracks with it, “need to come – Nick – _please_ – ”

He whimpers through the kiss Nick ducks to plant on his mouth lets out a shuddery sigh when Nick starts to move slowly southwards. Louis risks following him with eyes and almost instantly wishes he hadn’t because his dark hair looks so soft and floppy and his lips obscenely pink, pulled wide in a mischievous grin when he spots that he has an audience of one. The last stop is Louis’ stomach and he presses kiss after open-mouthed, plush kiss to the warm, slightly sweaty skin there and licks underneath his bellybutton until Louis scrunches his fingers into his neck to feel the muscle and the shorter hairs and Nick’s rolling heat covering his lower half like a blanket.

Time sufficiently and deliciously wasted, Louis tries to curl in on himself when Nick takes half of him past his lips in one go and fits his hand around the rest to pump in time with his sucking. As it is, he ends up with his arms crossed flat on his chest and Nick’s muted laugh vibrates through him to draw out another answering shiver. He must realise he’s being a little unfair with the ambush after such a teasing spell because Nick pulls off his cock, but not without a smirk. He licks along the length of him where it’s easier to talk.

“Move your arms, Lou,” he orders and tries to coax one away himself, “Want to see all of you when I make you come.”

Louis’ retort never arrives as he lets his arms fall to his sides again and Nick rolls his nipple between his thumb and forefinger the first chance he gets. Louis’ back arches towards the touch like he can’t help it and it feels so different to a sharp tweak, sexier somehow, so he’s bereft when the feeling leaves. Not to worry though, it’s impossibly even better on its return, wet from Nick’s mouth in the same way as his cock. He gasps and swears loudly as Nick starts to bob his head in earnest and it’d be mesmerising if Louis could think past tight wet heat and the soft slide of his brains being sucked clean out. For ways to die, it’s a pretty good way to go.

It’s endless minutes and split seconds combined but soon Louis can feel himself tremble against the bed and against Nick’s hand aimlessly roaming everywhere on his slim torso, head kept torturously between his thighs not matter how loud he moans or hard he begs. He feels the tense ball of energy in his body ready to burst forth with toes curling when Nick suddenly stops.

“What – I – ” he slurs, blinking quickly to refocus, “what’s wrong?”

“Mm, nothing,” Nick whispers and kissing his shoulder, “just getting this.”

Louis struggles to look anywhere but at him so misses the lube until it’s spilt directly onto his heated skin, cold and liquid. He wriggles fretfully in surprise when it drips from his balls to slide over his arse, his inner thighs, his hole.

“Whoops.” Nick grins, couldn’t look less sorry if he tried. “Too much. Up you go.”

He palms the back of Louis’ legs to get him to tuck them in nearer his chest but keep them spread so he can still freely get at his cock and Louis huffs out a breath; feeling like his flexibility is being tested. From how his muscles stand taut to cope with the new position and the round brightness of Nick’s eyes, he guesses he’s doing okay.

“I could just lick you again like this,” he muses and Louis’ stomach swoops at the thought of being tangled up and more trapped than ever.

Nick doesn’t do that, but Louis can’t complain when he guides two fingers into him instead and his tongue is a terrible mix of hard sucks and gentle laps at his foreskin. Before he can quite gather himself, Louis feels his legs fall boneless, his heels pushing hard into Nick’s shoulder blades, and he’s coming down Nick’s throat. 

He’s held there for a second or two he thinks for punishment, but Nick eventually slides off carefully and swallows deliberately, licking his lips clean, as Louis feels an aftershock ripple through him. He half protests when Nick tries to kiss him but Nick’s fingers push into his biceps and something in Louis’ head clicks, opening his jaw and accepting his tongue for him and soon he’s chasing the taste to get to Nick underneath and hips are rutting desperately on top of his.

“Oh fuck,” Nick groans urgently, “can I – can I fuck you? Please say yes – I need – I need to come – ”

Louis nods his head vigorously and smoothly rolls over as Nick shakily stays hunched behind him, ready to pounce. Louis rips more noises from him when he pushes his arse back on purpose and lets Nick’s cock hug the cleft of flesh and streak his skin. He must be fit to burst so Louis calms after his one teasing, cruel move and reaches for the condom beside them. 

He eases inside a little too quick and Louis slightly too tight from only a couple of dancing fingers here and there, but Louis finds he loves it. The fullness, the spark of an ache of being slowly stretched to his wits’ end and the feel of somebody else’s body making him feel pleasure and give it back tenfold. He lowers his head between his shoulders in tacit agreement when Nick croaks out the question of moving and he starts to thrust, careful not to hurt but undeniably preoccupied with his search for release. They both find enjoyment when Nick pulls a fistful of Louis’ hair, pulling him up so his fingertips barely touch the bed and his spine bows gracefully to present his arse for Nick to take. 

He doesn’t need the opportunity to be offered twice.

Collectively, it’s a matter of minutes between Louis and Nick coming, but Louis becomes distracted from time itself as he wiggles and clenches his arse and just asks to be fucked into the mattress and then there’s the first _smack_ with the flat of Nick’s hand. His body rides the movement, pushed forward by Nick’s hips and the flash of pain, and he cries out from it, the sensations at last too much. Nick meets sudden resistance, his climax feeling like he’s run straight into a brick wall and shattered him all over the floor.

Or on Louis.

Sprawled on the bed, Louis grunts unhappily at the hand still tight in his sweaty hair and the other that digs into his hip, leaving a mark, and shifts minutely until Nick gets the message through his post-orgasm brain to slump beside him instead, his hand present but softer on Louis’ head.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he chuckles eventually, kissing his ear sweetly and trudging to the en-suite bathroom.

Louis rolls his eyes into the pillow as he distantly hears Nick hum a tune under his breath as he potters about, carrying on when he’s back in the room apparently moving things around. Louis’ too tired and comfortable to do anything but wait for once and then finally the bed dips and Nick’s at his side again. He leans over him momentarily and he’s so close Louis can breathe him in – the moisture of fresh sweat and maleness and hints of the coffee he probably had stashed in the cup holder in his car. He’s a tiny bit incredulous when his cock faintly shows its interest. He wants to scrabble beneath the covers, but Nick’s knuckles trailing down his spine are distracting and _not_ helping and this is fucking impossible and how old does he think he is?!

“No,” he pouts, rubbing his forehead into the pillow. “No more. I thought you were old?”

“Fuck you!” he cackles, flicking at the pink-hued skin of Louis’ nearest arse cheek with a finger, “It’s not even a decade, you little shit. And anyway, I don’t have to be hard to make _you_ come y’know...”

Louis cracks an eye open to look at him. “Is that a new sex manual? ‘Mind Control Coming’ by Nick Grimshaw?”

“Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he sniggers.

It turns into a wrestling tussle but Louis would say that Nick had the advantage all along because he was already leaning over the back of him when he shoved Louis around and pinned him underneath his body. Things go oddly quiet then, climbing in intensity, when Nick flattens his palms on his chest and runs them slowly down his torso.

“What?”

“Just feeling,” Nick says, his eyes more alert again with a cheeky sparkle.

“Copping a feel more like,” Louis coughs into his fist.

Undeterred, Nick leans one arm on the bed and there are fingertips on Louis’ arse, swiping through the warmed lube around his hole. He bucks weakly beneath Nick’s weight in his lap, mewling in warning and again when Nick bends his leg for him and kisses his kneecap. He’s still soft, the thought of getting a proper erection so soon a ridiculous pipe dream, but one that Nick seems to think will happen as he ignores Louis’ restless energy until he’s paralysed below his long limbs except for the aborted shifts of his hips.

“You and your skinny arse better be careful,” Louis grits out, his hands flying to Nick’s narrow hips to grip tight as his dick rubs temptingly between his buttocks, “I’m tired, not dead.”

Nick’s laugh is joyful filth as he reaches for the nightstand whilst Louis’ heart jumps into his throat and traitorous dick gives a throb that says _yes_ , so he’s not entirely with it when Nick’s spider arms and legs climb off him and his lips are the only point of contact again. He hears the mechanical buzz of something and can’t stop the shiver when it passes over his nipple, leaving it a hardened nub and his skin full of goosebumps.

“I wasn’t sure I should pack this,” Nick whispers into his neck as Louis trembles like he’s cold, his breaths quick and shallow, “but you seem dead set against knowing what you can do, so I’m going to show you.”

He raises it in front of Louis’ face and he knows it could’ve only been one thing, but he still whimpers quietly and shuts his eyes when he sees the vibrator and Nick swirls it across the other nipple with a flick of his wrist. It’s thin and about as long as the span between Nick’s thumb and index finger and somehow still looks foreboding in its shiny black casing, maybe because of what it can _do_.

“This has got me off many a time,” he says casually with a tiny kiss to Louis’ jaw, as the gentle buzzing continues downwards, “including lately thinking about using it on you. Dreams really do come true eh?”

He moves half on top and hooks his leg around Louis’ to spread him out on the bed and Louis feels too slow to react and do the opposite, despite his frustration because, damn it, Nick’s not listening and he’s just going to try and make him come when he _can’t_. He grasps Nick’s shoulder in a last ditch attempt and shakes his head, his eyes pleading then rolling back when Nick forgoes any fingers and pushes the vibrator inside him. Louis already feels like he’s on fire and blinks when he belatedly realises that Nick’s switched it off and it’s just jammed in his hole, keeping him loose and open. He knees Nick in the thigh and a sob spills from his mouth when the vibrator turns on, his body now so sensitive to every slight change. Even Nick’s kisses or whispers can’t placate but he doesn’t seem to care, maybe because at last he’s got Louis right where he wants him – bare and at his mercy and nearly so strung out that he’s lost his wit and can only thrash pathetically and moan.

“That’s it, babe,” he coos, petting Louis’ hair using the arm he’s leaning on and switching the vibrator higher as he watches his face, “come on, you can do it, you look so good,”

“Shut up,” he demands angrily, nose twitching in disgust when his voice rasps along the words, “fuck – I can’t – not again – ”

“You might,” Nick nuzzles his face close, their eyelashes mingling; “I don’t think you know your own strength.”

With a touch to his cheek, he sits up to kneel and puts pressure on the vibrator as his other hand loosely strokes Louis’ cock. Apparently it’s on his time and Louis’ a goner, squirming and whimpering until the buzz pulses insistently and drags another orgasm from him, kicking and screaming. It’s not much, but it wets the drying come already on his stomach and he tries to bat Nick away when he lightly licks a streak. He eases the vibrator out and tosses it back onto the nightstand with a smirk.

“I look forward to using that again,”

It’s not clear if he means on himself or Louis and both thoughts are infuriatingly maddening.

“Wanker.” he says.

“Cockslut.” Nick retorts with a giggle.

“Hey!”

“It’s true,” he teases, “a night before a big football match – ”

“Two nights,” Louis corrects.

“Whatever – _before_ a big football match for charity and you’re here with me, fucking your brains out and not thinking about those poor sick kids. That makes you a helpless little cockslut.”

Louis blinks then laughs. “You’re awful.”

“I made you come three times tonight, love,” he grins, “I’m _awesome_.”

Louis takes great pains to pull his pillow out from underneath his head and whacks Nick in the face with it as hard as he can. His strike says _thank you_. Nick’s punch to his side says _good luck_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for all the kudos on my last 'old' fic. Here's another because I haven't got that many Tomlinshaw backed up and I might as well just stick them all here as an act of procrastination.
> 
> Originally posted on my [LiveJournal](http://community.livejournal.com/beautility) and crossposted to my [Tumblr](http://www.theprincessed.tumblr.com).


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